


Consequences

by Winterling42



Series: I am also a We [9]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, Gen, Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-04-22 22:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: Beau was busy getting drunk when consequences caught up to her.
Relationships: Dairon & Beauregard Lionett
Series: I am also a We [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1427866
Kudos: 48





	Consequences

Beau was busy getting drunk when consequences caught up to her.

There was a line of shot glasses in front of her, an identical line on the other side of the table, and a Tibetan man three times her size behind them. She heard the door open behind her, but was honestly more interested in watching how much her opponent wobbled as he downed his shot.

It wasn't until a flash of blue caught the corner of her eye that she turned to see Zeenoth leaning against the wall of the bar. Beau groaned, rolled her eyes, and downed her shot. Cheap rice wine burned as it went down, joining the rest of the increasingly severe fire in her belly. Beau winced, coughed, and then grinned back at her opponent. She listened to the roars and clinking of coins from the rest of the bar, working very hard to ignore the simply dressed monk in the corner.

Two shots and several hundred yuan richer, Beau stumbled (not  _ entirely _ acting) out the back door--straight into the hooded figure waiting outside. The night air stank of smoke and spilled beer.

"Shit," Beau said when the hooded stalker did not immediately attack. "Wrong way." She turned to go back into the bar, only to run bang into Zeenoth behind her.

"Hello Beauregard," he said, almost cheerfully. "Would you mind having a word with us?"

Beau only stared at him for a moment, weighing her odds. She glanced away, taking in the lay of the land and her two...well, maybe kidnappers was a strong word. But she caught a glimpse of the mystery person's hands closed into loose fists, and Zeenoth's wary stance. "Fine," she sighed, and held up her own hands in defeat. "What'd you have in mind?"

***

There was a warehouse, right at the edge of town. It was mostly empty now, just a few bags of rice leftover or spoiled from last year. A single chair and lantern had been set up in the middle, and Beau didn't have to wait for Zeenoth to shut the door behind them to say, "Wow, this isn't creepy ominous at all.  _ Great _ job picking out the decor, by the way. I could tell you were going for a real  _ summer _ look."

"Do you always talk this much?" Mystery Woman spoke for the first time, her voice low and slightly hoarse. Her Mandarin had an accent Beau couldn't place, and when she finally lowered her hood she only stood out more. A tall, thin black woman with dark eyes and a shaved head  _ looked _ at Beau, who had to force herself not to flinch from that intense eye contact. Not to blink until Mystery Woman did--and it was her who looked away first. "My name is Dairon," Mystery Woman said at last, when Beau didn't immediately fire back a quip. "First thing's first--Zeenoth?" Dairon held out a hand, and even from here Beau could see calluses and scars. The kind of hands someone got from repeatedly punching walls (or other hard things). Beau knew what they looked like on her own skin.

Zeenoth, for his part, only sighed and handed over a wad of cash to Mystery Dairon. "Right on schedule, my dear," he said, a little glumly. Beau picked her jaw up off the floor about the same time that Dairon turned their attention back to her.

"Why am I here?" Beau went on the attack, hoping to shift the conversation in her favor. "I mean, the only reason you'd have to come after me is the money, but I honestly didn't think the monastery was that hard up--" 

“We are trying to  _ help _ you, Beauregard.” Zeenoth snapped. “Despite your trouble with authority, you showed great promise at the Archive--”

Beau laughed. She laughed so loudly that Zeenoth actually  _ shut up _ for half a second. “If shelving books and punching walls was ‘great promise,” she said, “You guys have  _ got _ to pick up the bar for your initiates.”

“Promise can mean many things,” Dairon said. 

And then, from behind Beau and off to her right, Dairon  _ also _ said, “For example, a talent with seeing things that aren’t there.” Beau couldn't help but spin towards the new threat, and somehow it  _ was _ Dairon standing there. 

She turned to look at the original Dairon, and both of them were wearing satisfied smiles with too many teeth. Beau split the difference, trying to keep both Dairons in view. Instantly she had a headache, her brain trying to resolve or mirror the impossible.

"What the fuck are you?" Beau asked, and closed her eyes. She'd have to rely on other senses to determine which Dairon was real.

"I am like you, Beauregard," Dairon said, from her left. Much closer, on her right, she also said, "A sensate."

"A what?"

"Zeenoth." Dairon said, instead of answering. Instinctively Beau swiveled her head towards him. "Leave us."

And in light of their earlier dynamic, it didn't really surprise Beau that her old teacher only sighed and made for the door, always keeping one eye focused on her. Beau was almost flattered--she only shot him the bird instead of laughing, and Zeenoth gave a familiar (if resigned) sneer.

He slid the door shut again behind him, and it was just Beau and two Dairons in the room.

"You have been experiencing visions, sensory hallucinations." Left Dairon said. Beau made the mistake of looking at her, and immediately Right Dairon picked up the narration. "Perhaps you have spoken to people from across the world. All of this is real, Beauregard."

Beau took a deep breath, and then another. "What. Are. You?"

"The better question is," Left Dairon said, practically in her ear, "What are  _ you _ ?" Instinctively, Beau lashed out, hit only air. From well outside her reach they continued, "Sensates are...an older kind of human. We are the connection between continents, between languages and across borders. Through each other, we become more than the sum of our parts.”

"Oh....kay.” Beau raised her eyebrows. “Getting a little mumbo jumbo, aren't you?"

"Perhaps you have a better explanation?" Dairon asked, so dryly Beau thought her tongue might shrivel up. "Regardless, 'mumbo jumbo' is not why we are speaking now."

"Then why?"

Right Dairon smiled and nodded, like she approved of the question. It made Beau stiffen and back up a step. “Zeenoth was telling the truth. He suspected you of being sensate before you...left. It seems that since then your abilities have awakened.”

“What’s that got to do with you?” Beau asked. Her heart was starting to pick up, like she was in a fight, though neither Dairon had moved. Adrenaline was hyping up the confusion in her head, making it hard to think clearly. “I thought you’d love to get rid of me.” 

Left Dairon shook her head, reached out to put a hand on Beau’s shoulder. Beau flinched away, and the monk didn’t push it. “Sensates are increasingly rare, Beauregard. There are organizations bent on our destruction. Or our dissection. We-- _ I-- _ want to train you to protect yourself.  _ Yourselves _ .”

“And what do you get out of this, besides a warm fuzzy feeling before you go to sleep?” Beau shifted back another step, careful to keep her weight balanced. She could question the weird plural form later. And the fucking dissection thing--she wasn’t sure she  _ believed _ any of this. There must have been something in that wine.

Right Dairon sighed and shook her head. “We at the Cobalt Soul have a certain penchant for hidden knowledge, for protecting what others would destroy out of fear. Expositors, like myself, are sensates trained to learn all we can about the others we are connected to, and to protect those other selves no matter what.”

She didn’t flinch when she said it, but Beau caught the deep, grating guilt in her voice. “And you want me to be one of you.” 

Dairon sighed. “ _ Yes. _ Agree to my tutelage, and I will make sure the Cobalt Soul is always open to you. I can put you in touch with our various outposts throughout...well, throughout China at least. It won’t be much, but it will keep you off the streets.”

Beau didn’t have a one liner for that. She stood there, watching both Dairons...until she blinked and there was only the one on the right. “Why are you doing this?” she asked again. “Why me? I’m just a crazy person, right?”

Dairon raised one shaved eyebrow, took a few steps closer. “You are no crazier than me,” she said with a crooked smile. “And as for why...call it an investment.”

That, at least, Beau understood. “Okay,” she said, lifting her hands in a shrug and letting them slap back against her sides. “Why not? Why the Hell not?”

“Excellent,” Dairon said, and her smile turned sharp. “Your first lesson begins now.” And she jabbed out, almost faster than Beau could track. Cracked two knuckles into Beau’s sternum, and then against the side of her head. She fell back, coughing, bringing her hands up into a fighting stance and blinking stars out of her eyes. 

“Lesson one,” Dairon said, though at least there was still only one of her. “Sensate connections can be manipulated just like other energy flows. They can be enhanced by strong emotion, physical pain or exertion, and certain kinds of drugs. On the other end, our bonds can be disrupted by depressants such as alcohol, strong painkillers, and certain well-kept Archive secrets."

Beau reached, half on instinct, for the connections she  _ knew _ were there. But there was only a vague sense of alarm and something like static, or pins and needles but in her  _ brain _ . “What’d you do to me?”

“Pressure points.” Dairon settled back into a crouch, her sharp smile unchanged. She beckoned at Beau with one hand. “Now come on. Show me what  _ you _ can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr at [critical-ramblings](https://www.critical-ramblings.tumblr.com)!


End file.
